


The Process of Obtaining Clarification for Misconstrued Ideas

by milou407



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe, ArtTeacher!Grantaire, But he is, Combeferre & Enjolras Platonic Life Partners, Combeferre and Courfeyrac are adorable, Get Togeher, Lawyer!Enjolras, M/M, Marius Is Literally A Seabird, Miscommunication, Party, Platonic Life Partners, Relationship(s), hes a doof, why is that a tag?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:04:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3211877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milou407/pseuds/milou407
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Partner: noun, 1. a person who shares or is associated with another in some action or endeavor; sharer; associate, 2. the person with whom one cohabits in a romantic relationship</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Process of Obtaining Clarification for Misconstrued Ideas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wordonawing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordonawing/gifts).



> This is my prompt fill for the Les Mis Holiday Exchange, I had a prompt with miscommunication and I ran with it. For wordonawing! Sorry that it's not very holidy-ish.

"Enjolras? Enjolras, are you listening to me?"

Enjolras jerks his head up from the proposal he is reading to see Combeferre leaning in his doorway, a wry smile on his face. "Sorry, what? I was distracted."

"I know, you always are," Combeferre chuckles and straightens up, fixing his shirt. "Come on, we have to leave soon or we'll be late."

"Late?" They aren't seeing any more clients today, of that Enjolras is certain. Starting their own firm had been a risk, but it had turned out for the better and their schedule was tightly packed with appointments and appearances. He would know if they had another appointment today. "I thought we were done until Monday."

Combeferre rolls his eyes in a familiar gesture. As much as he loves his friend and now partner at their law firm, his single mindedness was something he had never grown out of. "Yes, we are done with work. But Courfeyrac is hosting a party tonight and he wanted us to come. I told him we would, for a little while anyway. But if we don't leave now, we'll be late, and you know how Courf gets when we're late."

"You just want to go so you two can make out in the corner all night," Enjolras grumbles, standing up and packing his work away, "It took you forever to get together, but really, it's getting to be a bit much."

The tips of Combeferre's ears turn pink and he looks down at his shoes. "Yes, well, it's the honeymoon stage, you know. I'm sure we won't be insufferable forever."

"I'm not being serious," Enjolras slings his bag over his shoulder and jostles Combeferre as he passes out of his office and the two of them begin to head to the parking lot. "I'm glad for the both of you, truly. It's been a while since I've seen you this happy." He blows out his breath in a sigh, "I'm just not relishing being on my own in a crowd of people I don't know."

"It's just some of Courfeyrac's work friends, you've met some of them. It won't be too many people you don't know. And if all else fails, you can leave early, we won't judge you," Combeferre places his hand on Enjolras' shoulder and squeezes lightly.

Enjolras leans into it and says, "Yes you will, you and Courf gossip like old ladies." The hand on his shoulder shoves him to the side and he laughs. Maybe the party won't be so bad after all.

\---

This party is going to be terrible.

Grantaire hasn't even left his apartment yet and he already knows it. Mostly because Courfeyrac is still standing in his living room, trying to convince him to come when all he wants is to get drunk in the privacy of his own home.

"Please, R! Everyone else is going and I want you to meet my friends," Courfeyrac's puppy eyes are legendary, but Grantaire works with kids all day. He is not easily swayed. 

"There'll be food!" Alright, maybe he is easily swayed.

"Fine. But I'm going to sit alone and eat all of your food. Then I'm going home."

"I would expect nothing less," Grantaire is abruptly engulfed in an armful of excited Courfeyrac, "I have to go and set up, but I'll see you in about a half hour. Bye, R!" Silence falls as Courfeyrac runs out the door, and Grantaire sighs.

When Courfeyrac had begun teaching at Musain Elementary, Grantaire had been skeptical about adding another person to his group of friends. All the younger teachers tended to stick together, and they had formed their own circle within the school. This new and energetic first grade teacher was a stranger, but he had ended up fitting in quite well with their little group. He likes Courfeyrac, really, but going out was not on the list of things he wants to do tonight. The kindergarteners had started finger painting at the same time the third grade was exploring watercolors, so he is covered in paint and exhausted after a day of cleaning up messes.

Resigned to the fact that he would be going to this party with paint still on him somewhere, Grantaire gets up to go change before he leaves. Really, the least he could do was to show up in clothes that didn't look like he had been in a very enthusiastic game of paintball.

It was going to be a long night.

\----

The long night didn't get off to a bad start, actually, and Grantaire finds he's on the edge of enjoying himself.

He's sitting with Marius, listening (again) to his monologue of all of the wonders that make up Cosette, who Marius could actually be talking to at this party, but is instead hiding with Grantaire (again).

It mostly consists of nodding and humming at the right places, which is good because the remainder of Grantaire's attention is devoted to the plate of food he currently has in front of him, and the beer he has sitting next to it. They're the reason he's still here, and he's planning on leaving as soon as he's finished. Or he was planning, until the door opens again and _holy mother of god, there's an angel at the party._

An angel or a god because damn, the man is gorgeous. Tall and lean, and with blonde hair and blue eyes, the man looks like he just walked out of a painting, one of the classic ones with halos and avenging angels and-

"Who the hell is that?" Grantaire blurts out, startling Marius out of his diatribe.

"Who? Oh, that's Enjolras and his partner, Combeferre. They started that new firm on Main Street, E & C Associates. They're really close with Courfeyrac, I think he told me they met in grade school. I've met Combeferre before, he's nice, but Enjolras is...intimidating," It doesn't take much to intimidate Marius, honestly. He's afraid of Cosette, for god's sake.

"Right, ok," So the blonde has a partner. Damn. Well, nothing says he can't ogle from afar. He's just going to have to keep his hands to himself. Grantaire tries to pay attention to Marius again, but his gaze and attention are drawn repeatedly to Enjolras, standing and talking with Combeferre and Courfeyrac.

Cutting Marius off, Grantaire stands and walks into the kitchen to get a new drink. If he's going to stare at the blonde god all night, he needs to be a lot drunker. He's standing in the kitchen when he hears movement behind him.

"Hello."

Grantaire whirls around to see the blonde man in the kitchen, looking relaxed and curious. He immediately feels his heart rate increase as he smiles. "Hi there."

"I'm Enjolras, I don't believe we've met," Enjolras extends his hand and Grantaire takes it. So much for keeping his hands to himself.

"I'm Grantaire. I work with Courfeyrac at Musain, I'm the art teacher."

Enjolras grins and his eyes seem to sparkle, "Ah. That explains the paint then. You have some there, on your cheek." And then he reaches out to wipe the paint away. _What._

Grantaire must look shocked, because Enjolras blushes and drops his hand and his gaze. "Sorry, that was presumptuous. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Oh god. Grantaire is so fucked.

\----

Oh god, Enjolras is an _idiot._

When he went into the kitchen to get a drink, he obviously surprised the other man in there, but instead of apologizing, all he could think of was _wow._ Wild black curls fell around vivid green eyes, and Enjolras felt as though all the breath had left his body at the sight of this man. The paint which was smeared on his cheek made him all the more endearing, and his surprised smile was blinding. At that point, apparently all his sense had fled, because not a minute later he is reaching out to clean off the paint on Grantaire's cheek and making a complete idiot of himself. He's usually much less awkward than this, really.

When Grantaire just laughs and rubs his palm across his cheek, Enjolras lets out a relieved breath. 

"That's ok," a crooked little grin flashes across Grantaire's face, "When you're the art teacher, you get used to having art supplies everywhere. Paint on my face is not a new thing for me."

"An art teacher," Enjolras grabs a drink and leans against the counter, "And at an elementary school. You must have infinite patience."

Grantaire laughs again and Enjolras is once again captivated. This might become a problem.

"You have no idea. Just today, this one kid, Morgan, she..." Grantaire rubs the back of his neck and looks up at Enjolras, "Sorry, you don't want to hear about my day."

"No, I really do. It's probably much more interesting than sitting in an office all day. Tell me about the kids."

So Grantaire launches into his story about a third grader, a frog she had brought into the classroom, and a lot of blue paint. From there, they move on to art, books, and philosophy, of which Grantaire is surprisingly well versed.Flirting has never been Enjolras' strong suit, but he thinks he is doing ok. He doesn't think Grantaire is supposed to look uncomfortable, but he hadn't walked away from the conversation yet, so it couldn't be too bad. Although, Grantaire keeps bringing Combeferre into the conversation, which is strange. Maybe Grantaire is attracted to him instead? Enjolras pushes the thought out of his mind and focuses again on the conversation, even if he keeps getting sidetracked by Grantaire's mouth, or the way he brushes his curls out of his face and tugs on them. He might be fantasizing about running his hands through that hair, and how the curls would feel between his fingers. Just maybe.

Everything is going fine until Grantaire glances over Enjolras' shoulder and into the living room and stiffens.

"What?" Enjolras looks around, but doesn't see anything out of the ordinary, "What's wrong?"

Now Grantaire appeared to be deeply uncomfortable, "Well, I don't want to be the one to tell you this, but your 'partner' is kissing someone else."

Oh. Yes, Combeferre and Courfeyrac were, in fact, kissing in the corner of the room. No one else looks terribly concerned, and are all ignoring them.

Enjolras turns back to Grantaire, confused, "Yes, so? They're dating, and have been for weeks. Is that a problem?"

Flustered, Grantaire says, "No, I guess, if you have that kind of relationship. I just know if my partner was making out with someone else, I would have a problem with it."

"Wait, 'partner'? You know he's just my partner in the law firm, right? We aren't together or anything, he's dating Courfeyrac," Oh, this is too funny.

Now Grantaire looks very confused, but also slightly hopeful, "So when Marius said he was your partner..."

"Fellow lawyer. Best friend. College roommate. Yes. But not romantic interest. I'm not currently seeing anyone," Enjolras gives him a sly look, "Why, were you interested?"

"I...well- that is to say... I'm not not interested, but I didn't think you would be, and... ok, I'm just really confused now," and isn't a flustered Grantaire adorable?

"I think I can clear it up for you." With that, Enjolras steps forward, puts his hands on either side of Grantaire's face, and leans down to press their lips together. 

Grantaire squeaks in surprise, but then he's pressing back up against Enjolras and he _melts_ into the kiss. Grantaire's lips are softer than he thought, and the intensity with which he kisses is mind blowing. Enjolras doesn't know how long they stand in the kitchen, but when they break apart, they're both breathless and Grantaire looks absolutely ravished. 

Enjolras is pretty sure he doesn't look much better.

"Wow. Ok, I'm really glad Combeferre isn't your partner. We should definitely do that again." Grantaire's voice is wrecked and that's what finally makes Enjolras grab him by the wrist and pull him out of the kitchen, into the bathroom. Once the door closes behind them, he presses Grantaire against the door and kisses him again. Grantaire threads his fingers through Enjolras' hair and _pulls_ , eliciting a moan from Enjolras, who pulls away from Grantaire's mouth to leave kisses down Grantaire's jaw and neck.

"Oh god, what are we doing? Our friends are right outside the door, we are in _Courfeyrac's bathroom,_ everyone could hear us. _What_ are we doing?"

"Well, I was going to get us off, but if you want me to leave, I could leave..." Enjolras goes to pull away, but Grantaire growls, "Don't you dare," and pulls him back to his mouth, kissing him hungrily as he undoes the buttons on Enjolras' shirt.

Enjolras ignores Grantaire's shirt and goes straight for the button on his jeans, popping it open and putting his hand in his pants, giving Grantaire a stroke through his boxers.

Grantaire gasps, and his hands fist in Enjolras' shirt, "Oh god, do that again, _please_."

"With pleasure," Enjolras smirks and strokes again, pulling another gasp out of Grantaire.

"Oh _fuck_ ," Grantaire swears and starts fumbling with Enjolras' pants, pulling down his pants and underwear and sliding a hand around his cock.

Now it's Enjolras' turn to gasp and clutch at Grantaire. He leans forward and slides their bodies together, aligning their cocks and grasping both of them, jacking them off together.

Grantaire moans and his head falls forward, leaning in to bite at Enjolras' mouth. His hand slides into Enjolras' hair again, pulling at the gold strands.

"Enjolras, I'm going to-"

"Yes," he breathes, mouthing at Grantaire's neck as he increases his pace, "Come for me."

Grantaire comes with a shudder and a bite to Enjolras' shoulder, with Enjolras following soon after with a choked-off groan. They pant together for a few seconds before Enjolras turns to pull a towel from the rack to clean them off.

"I probably should have asked you this before," Enjolras says calmly, as he's wiping them both down, "But do you want to go to dinner with me sometime?"

Grantaire stares at him for a solid ten seconds and then bursts into laughter.

"You just gave me a hand job in our friend's bathroom, and now you're asking me to dinner? Going a bit backward, aren't you?"

"Technically, I gave us both a hand job," Enjolras says wryly, "So is that a no?"

"No, it is absolutely a yes. Like I would turn down a dinner invitation from an angel."

Enjolras raises his eyebrow, "An angel?"

"Or a god, more likely. What do you say, Apollo, want to go back out and face the music?"

"Sure, just let me..." Enjolras arranges Grantaire's curls so they don't look like they've had someone running their hands through them, "There. Now we can go."

They step out of the bathroom and are immediately greeted by cheering and whistles. Grantaire instantly turns bright red, and Enjolras suspects that he's no better.

"Now what could you boys have been doing in the bathroom?" Courfeyrac asks innocently.

"Making dinner plans," Enjolras snipes back as he takes Grantaire's hand and pulls him toward the door.

"You'd better not have gotten anything on my towels, or you'll be doing my laundry!" Enjolras flips him off as they walk out the door. Grantaire waves and winks at the rest of his friends as he leaves, and sees Combeferre holding Courfeyrac around his waist. 

Grantaire's smile is blinding as they step out into the cool night, still holding hands.

"So, dinner?"

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated! Much love


End file.
